Viva la Revolución
by Cisselah
Summary: In a dark future, a Resistance soldier sends his little sister a letter containing the latest escapades of his unit.


**~*Viva la Revolución*~**

**_(Chaser 2)_**

**_written for_**_ Cearphilly Catapults** in **The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition_

**_Prompts: 1, 2 & 4_**

**~*-.-*~**

* * *

_Day 150 - Someplace dark, cold and top secret_

Dear Rox

It's already been 150 days since I left. Amazing, right? It feels almost like yesterday I woke up to your annoying voice and stinky feet. I can't tell you where I am or what I'm doing (for obvious reasons the Resistance isn't that big on sharing and caring), but I want you to know I'm fine. Better than fine. I'm fabulous. My feet are dry, my stomach full and my bunkmate doesn't snore (unlike some people I know).

Our caravan joined up with the muggles last month, so there's been some dismay within our ranks. Finch gave one of the muggle officers a bad case of green boils in uncomfortable places, and now the poor bloke (Finch, not the muggle) has been punished with sentry duty for the next few weeks. The incident has made some of the muggles uneasy of us, so Commander Teaparty has partnered me up with this muggle called Manny in order to promote intermingling in-between our units. Manny's American, but other than the expected weirdness that comes with that territory, Manny's cool. He showed me how to clean his gun and tomorrow he's gonna teach me how to shoot (in return I'm supplying him with bunch of those tasty mint-chocolate-taste-charms you gave me before I left, which is understandable - but regrettable - since the army rations they feed us taste like dirt).

But don't get me started on that. I could write you several letters about the food alone.

Anyway, last week the muggle Commander (called 'General Herpes' or something) was told I was a Dead man. He laughed a bit and asked if we weren't all, so Commander Teaparty had to explain that it stood for our _Demolition, Explosion, Ammunition and Distraction_ unit. "But we call them Dead men," he said. "Because more often than not the poor sods die on their first tour". Louis thought it was a great laugh, especially after he demonstrated the new remote triggered explosion spell we cooked up. You should have seen their faces, sis. They almost crapped their pants when Louis said the code word and half the street two blocks away went up in smoke.

I worry about him sometimes. Louis always finds these things a little too exciting (which is probably why Commander Teaparty keeps him in the back of the caravan where no one can see him).

It's been quiet so far. Since my last letter, we've only run into a patrol twice. One was a Snatcher unit. We caught them off guard, defeated them quite easily and suffered only minimal casualties. We lost Salter and Yale, but other than that the worst injury was Louis when he slipped and sprained his wrist while trying to steal a pair of the enemy's boots. Manny and I had to drag away from those boots because apparently they had not only been charmed with an anti-theft charm but also with all kinds of fancy shit that made them "worth two Freddy's and one puddle" (and no, I have no idea where the puddle comment came from).

The second patrol we ran into was south of the Belgian border. They were defiantly Death Eater's, but not very high up the food chain, because we chased them away with some noise and a few burst of wild artillery fire. Finch recons they were DE kids in training and probably not very well versed in battle, which is lucky, 'cause apparently we're not either. One of our muggle comrades shot himself in the foot and spent the rest of the night screaming bloody murder (even after Roberts fixed it up, good as new). Embarrassing, I know.

On a much brighter note, the weather here is terrible. It's been raining nonstop for five days now and I almost suspect someone cast a weather curse on us (although Commander Teaparty would never have allowed such thing to happen). I think Romirez thinks so too, because I caught him trying to cast _finite incantatem_ on the sky just a couple of hours ago, although sadly it had no effect.

Hey Rox... Do you remember that thing that Danish Auror used to say. "If envy were a fever, all the world would be ill" or something like that. Well, if envy were a fever, you'd be reaching fiendfyre temperatures by now, because my unit passed through Paris sixteen days ago. Honestly Rox, I can't believe you dream of visiting this place. It's all just ruins and rocks. Merlin, I almost tripped over an ancient streetlight and hit my nose on a wine bottle. The Dark Lord and his Allies really bombed this place up good. As far as I know, it's deserted. We didn't see anyone - dead or alive - and the detection spells showed nothing, but Commander Teaparty made us wear the anti-gas charms anyway (because he's paranoid like that).

Anyway, I found the painting I sent with this letter in the ruins of a giant glass pyramid near the Seine River. Thought you might like this, since you're into art and all that. I know it's really ugly and the lady in the painting has a really creepy smile, but Louis says that it used to be real popular amongst the muggles. The name of the lady in the picture is either Lisa or Mona (nobody seems to be able to decide) and it's painted by some Italian bloke a long time ago, so don't worry if the paint is all cracked. The old lady's been through much. Manny almost had a heart attack once he saw it. Started mumbling something about 'priceless masterpieces' and 'freakin' wizards'.

Also, ignore the mustache. It's Louis fault. He found it yesterday before we went to bed.

Otherwise life as a soldier of the Resistance is pretty boring. We keep our ear to the ground, our heads down and (for the most part) our hands in our pockets. The Outside world is dirty and dying. Most towns are abandoned and the muggles that lives there are hiding. The only habitable towns are the ones that are run by people that are picked by the Dark Lord, which there's regretfully never a shortage of. Old Snake-face never seems to sleep. Honestly, that monster rules most of Europe, half of Africa and he still has time to wage war against Russia, China and Afghanistan, wipe out all muggleborns he can find, handpick new recruits for his inner circle and hunt down us fine Resistance men all at once. It's like he's split in two. Or five for that matter.

But let's not talk about me. How are you, little sis? You still crushing on Ted? You should really stop. Honestly, sis, the man's an ESA. You know, _Espionage, Seduction and Assassination_. He eats Death Eaters for breakfast. He'll crush you like you were a snorkack, and then Dad would crush me for letting you get crushed.

Speaking of Dad, how's the old goat? He still making out with Mom on the kitchen table and tinkering with all those new inventions in the bathroom? Seriously, he needs to find a better place to stove that stuff. I went to the bathroom one morning to pee and found Icky the Magical Iguana crawling up from the toilet.

What about Great Aunt Muriel? She dead yet? She's been alive for like forever. I mean, once you start smelling like the inside of a coffin, it's time to bite the sour apple and just die. Especially when half your family is already rooting for it (and placing bets). But no... The lonesome old hag just refuses to kick it. If she doesn't snore it off soon, I'll help her along, I swear I will (and I know Louis will help me).

How's the rest of the clan? Heard Uncle Harry pulled a successful raid a while ago. Broke into Snake-face's headquarters and rescued good old Jaime, didn't he? Stole a couple of fancy objects too (rumor has it Hufflepuff's cup was one of them, that greedy little sneak!). Quite a feat, breaking into Buckingham Palace like that. Manny says even the muggle managed to keep the security tight during the time they were in control, so it's no wonder they've got the place wired tighter than a Death Eater standing on top of a landmine. I heard they shut down entire London after Uncle Harry pulled that little stunt of his. It has Commander Teaparty so tense he's ordering us to move - again. '_Constant Vigilance'_ and all that (and when I find out who said that, I'll kick their ass. I'm not kidding!).

Bugger. Manny is calling for me. We've got a supply run in twenty minutes, so I better wrap this up fast.

Just 75 days left, Rox. I know you're counting down obsessively. Don't think I don't know! Just remember to live a little, okay. Pull up your thick head from that sketchbook of yours and relax for once. Let loose (but stay away from boys, remember that we talked about this. Boys are icky).

Love you, sis.

Viva la Revolución!

/ Your brother, the Dead man Freddy Weasley

.


End file.
